You Still Have All of me
by Menecarkawan
Summary: A werewolf attack changes the lives of many, but one man's more than others. IS SLASH! COMPLETE!
1. Werewolf

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters contained herein, except for the Healer, who I made up for practical purposes. I also own the house Sev lives in. Aside from that, everything belongs to JKR and her various publishers as well as Time Warner Productions.**

**Author's Note: This is SLASH! No like? No read. Simple, isn't it?**

**Also, this is not a happy tale, not by any means. If you don't like watching people die, don't read it. That's all. Enjoy!**

_My Immortal By: Evanesence_

_I'm so tired of being here_

_Suppressed by all of my childish fears_

_And if you have to leave_

_I wish that you would just leave_

_Because your presence still lingers here_

_And it won't leave me alone_

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I've held your hand for all of these years_

_But you still have all of me_

_You used to captivate me_

_By your resonating light_

_But now I'm bound by the life you left behind_

_Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams_

_Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I've held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have all of me_

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone_

_And though you're still with me_

_I've been alone all along_

**You Still Have All of Me**

**Chapter One**

**Werewolf**

**ONE**

A tall man with sallow skin, long black hair and black eyes stood at the stove making dinner for two. His husband was outside in the garden, harvesting the vegetables to be stored away in the pantry for later use. The man didn't know why his husband insisted on harvesting the vegetables at night, but then his husband was very eccentric, so he didn't ask.

After chopping carrots for his stew, he moved to dump them in the pot, splashing water all over his hand.

"Damn it!" he growled irritable. "Ruddy Gryffindor clumsiness must be rubbing off on me." As he ran his burning hand under a cool spray of water a piercing scream rent through the air, accompanied by low, animalistic growling. The man shut off the water, running through the house to the back garden, drawing his wand as he went. As he burst through the back door, he saw his husband being mauled by a werewolf. The sounds of ripping flesh reached his ears as he watched his husband being dragged toward the woods by the beast.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he cried as he ran, sending a shot of green light at the beast. The spell hit it, causing it to cry out in pain before sprinting into the darkness. The man ran to his husband, who was lying in a pool of blood moaning in pain. He stumbled as he reached the scene, falling heavily to his knees and crawling the rest of the way to his husband's side.

His dear, beautiful husband was covered in gashes that were slowly oozing blood, the werewolf's saliva appearing in thick, white, foaming mounds in the terrible wounds. His throat was nearly ripped out from a bite that was would have broken his neck if not for the spell that hit the beast. On his chest and stomach, the fabric of his robes was torn and bloody, bits of bone and flesh hanging off limply. One of his arms was nearly bitten through, the other was intact, but the hand was being held on by a mere sliver of skin, reminding the dark man of the Gryffindor House ghost, Nearly Headless Nick.

"Oh gods, love," he said, lifting his husband into his arms. "I've told you a thousand times that gardening at night was foolish."

"I'm… sorry," his husband replied before passing out. The man gathered his husband into his arms, taking him directly to St. Mungo's.

"Help me!" he cried as he entered. "He's been attacked by a werewolf!"

The staff jumped to action, taking the injured man away on a gurney.

"Wait here, sir," the nurse said, holding the dark haired man back.

"Where are they taking him?" he demanded.

"To surgery," the nurse replied. "A Healer will be out later to speak with you."

The man paced for what seemed hours to him, until a Healer finally came to speak to him.

"Are you with the werewolf victim?" he asked.

"Yes," the man replied, staring at the Healer in desperation. "How is he? Will he live? When can I see him?"

The Healer held up his hands to stem the flow of questions. "He's stable now, but he's in a coma. We don't know if he'll live or not, but we're hopeful. He'll be settled in a few minutes, and you'll be able to see him then. The werewolf tore out a large portion of his flesh, as well as breaking several bones. If he survives, he'll be heavily scarred."

"Are you hopeful?" the man asked hesitantly.

The Healer looked at him sadly. "It doesn't look good, but he may make it through. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Healer Johnson, you are needed in hex casualty two. Healer Johnson, you are needed in hex casualty two," a feminine voice said, echoing through the halls.

"Duty calls," the Healer said, shaking the man's hand. "A nurse will be out to escort you to his room shortly." With that, he walked away down a side corridor. Several minutes later, the man found himself at his husband's bedside, holding his hand gently.

"You have to wake up, my love," he whispered. "You simply must. What will I do with that silly garden of yours if you don't?"

**TWO**

The man sat at his husband's side quietly, his hair falling in his eyes, greasy from lack of care. He'd been in the hospital for nearly two weeks, refusing to leave his husband's side. The Healers didn't even bother trying to throw him out anymore.

A tall man in tattered robs, with graying brown hair, hazel eyes, and a tired face sat down next to him. "How are you today?" he asked.

The dark haired man shrugged, refusing to speak. He hadn't spoken much to anyone during the past two weeks, except to speak to his husband when no one else was around.

"He might just wake up yet," his companion said. "He's always been strong. He can beat this and keep me company on the full moons."

"Indeed," the dark haired man replied. He took his husband's hand and squeezed it gently.

The werewolf sighed, sitting back in his chair. "You have to keep faith."

"In what? God? Thanks, but no thanks. I know no god. I only know my husband, and that he may not live."

"You can't think that way," the werewolf admonished. "You have to be strong for him when he can't be."

The man merely nodded, not trusting his voice to say anything. He dreaded that one day he would wake up, and his husband would be gone, never to garden foolishly at night again. The thought made his heart clench painfully. He was pulled from his musings when he felt a feeble squeeze on his hand. He looked up to find green eyes studying him tiredly.

"Thank the gods you're awake, my love," he said, leaning forward slightly.

The werewolf looked up, smiling sadly at the man on the bed. "Hey, kiddo," he said.

The injured man smiled gently, turning back to his dark husband. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't fast enough."

"I still love you, even if you are foolish sometimes," the dark haired man replied. "But you're going to get it when you get home."

"Don't do that," the victim whispered. "I'm not coming home."

"Please…"

"Don't mourn for me, my love. I'm going to be with my family now. I'll miss you, even in heaven." With that, the werewolf victim closed his eyes and stopped breathing, his head dropping to the side lifelessly. Almost at once, Healers and nurses flooded the room, pushing the two grieving men out.

The dark haired man leaned against the wall, desperately trying to control the tears that were threatening to fall.

"It's okay to cry," the werewolf said gently, moving forward and putting his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"He wasn't supposed to die," the dark haired man said, his voice breaking. Before he could stop it, he was sobbing uncontrollably into the werewolf's shoulder. He wailed in agony, unable to control the sounds escaping from him. "Oh gods, what will I do now? He promised to be with me always! I can't live without him! Gods, Harry, you can't die! You can't!" His knees gave up and he sank to floor, taking his friend with him.

A Healer came out of the room, clearing her throat gently. "I'm sorry, Mr. Snape," she said. "He didn't make it."

With that sentence, Severus Snape felt that he had nothing left to live for.


	2. Heartbroken

**Author's Note: I'd like to take this moment to thank Victoria Ennis for her work on this fic, and to send props to her for creating the intimate scene between Harry and Severus in this chapter. She's been such a help to me that I decided to give her a little piece of my story. Here's to you, love!**

**Chapter Two**

**Heartbroken**

**ONE **

Severus left the hospital in a daze, his mind unable to accept that his beloved husband was dead. He entered the house, hung his cloak on the hook by the door, moved into the living room and waited for the familiar greeting he would never hear again. The silence in the house was nearly oppressive as he stood quietly; everywhere was an accumulation of two weeks of dust. It was so still that he could hear his heart breaking all over again, over this once happy home.

He moved to the kitchen, thinking he'd get something to drink, only to find the remnants of his ruined meal from the night Harry had been attacked. He absently began cleaning up the mess not thinking to use his wand as he did so. The task took his mind off of the pain of his situation as he mechanically began gathering the moldy dishes for cleaning.

He washed the soiled dishes in scalding water, hardly noticing the pain in his hands from the heat. After the dishes were clean, Severus moved to the stove with a damp rag in hand, intent on making the steel surface glow again. Once that was done, he moved to the magical pantry to check if the foods were spoiled. He was immediately overwhelmed by the scents of vegetables, magically preserved by the spells on the pantry, which reminded him of his lost love. Harry always had an earthy smell to him; a combination of the organic soaps he used and the time he spent in the garden planting and gathering their fresh ingredients. A memory came to him then of a time that was happy when it happened, but was now bitter in its ramifications.

"_We could use this pantry for fresh ingredients," Harry suggested with a smile, running his hands over the wooden shelves in the large pantry of their new home._

_Severus raised an eyebrow at his new husband's enthusiasm. "And I suppose you're going to go out every week and buy these ingredients?" he asked._

_Harry's grin grew broader as he watched Severus. "Of course not, you snarky git. The yard out back will be perfect for a garden. I could harvest all of the herbs and vegetables for us."_

"_Ah yes. How could I forget your fascination with gardening?"_

"_It's not a 'fascination', Severus. Gardening relaxes me in its monotony. It's the one thing that can make the world seem to make sense."_

_Severus put his arms around his husband, kissing the top of his messy head. "Then, by all means, start your garden," he murmured._

The garden had taken his husband from him. The garden had ripped their happy home to shreds with its 'calming monotony'. An anger such as Severus had never known came over him then, burning through his veins in its intensity. He grabbed a glass jar off of the nearest shelf, hurling it through the open door of the pantry, relishing in the sounds of breaking glass as it shattered on the wall above the sink. He grabbed another jar, and another, hurling them through the kitchen, hardly noticing when the anguished tears began to fall from his eyes. He swiped another shelf, sending its contents flying to the floor in an avalanche of vegetables.

Severus looked at the destruction he had wrought on Harry beloved pantry. He was breathing heavily, finding that the mess didn't make him feel any better about his loss. He fisted his hands into his hair, screaming as loud as he could at the injustice of his situation, falling to his knees in misery. He began to sob harshly, his heart breaking with each new tear that fell from his eyes. He could hardly breathe with the intensity of his sobs, his lungs fighting for survival, his heart beating in a terrible rhythm of despair.

"Why?" he screamed to the empty house. "Why did you leave me? Oh gods, I can't do this! How could you leave me here alone? Oh gods, my Harry, come back to me! Come back to me, my love." His pleading grew quiet as his sobs died down in his chest. He knew he would never have his husband back, but rationality was nowhere in his thoughts as he begged the gods to give him his lover back. He felt terribly alone, kneeling in the pantry among the ruined jars of his husband's fateful hobby.

Several minutes later, Severus left the pantry, not bothering the repair the damage, walking into the living room to look through the many objects his Harry had adorned the room with. He stood near the mantle, looking at the pictures adorning it; pictures Harry had insisted on placing there, despite Severus' objections to the 'ridiculous Gryffindor sentimentality' of the action. Severus picked up one picture that was sitting at the left end of the mantle, stroking his thumb over the image of Harry's face. It was a Muggle photograph, capturing that one instant in time and freezing it forever.

"_Please get in the picture with me," Harry asked again as he posed for the camera. He'd found a photographer who also did Muggle type photos for the job._

"_I do not pose for pictures," Severus replied, eyeing the camera distastefully._

"_I'm going to get you in a picture one of these days," Harry informed him._

"_I highly doubt that," Severus said, crossing his arms over his chest._

_Harry smiled sweetly at him, moving to wrap his husband in his arms. "I love you, you snarky git," he said._

"_And I you, insufferable Gryffindor brat," Severus replied, bending to place a kiss on his husband's lips. Little did he know that Harry had planned this from the start, so while they were engaged in their kiss, the photographer snapped his picture. Severus turned to glare at the man. He turned his glare to Harry when he heard the light snicker issuing from the delectable mouth._

"_What?" Harry asked, feigning innocence. "I _told_ you I'd get you into a picture. Did you doubt my ingenuity?"_

_Severus rolled his eyes fondly. "Of course the one time you show ingenuity, you get one over on me."_

_Harry slapped his arm lightly. "You're going to pay for that later," he promised._

"_I look forward to it," Severus replied._

Severus smiled at the memory, impressed at his ability to do so. His emotions seemed to have taken leave of his senses, running rampant without his permission. One moment he was crying his eyes out, an action he hadn't done in nearly thirty years, and the next he was smiling at a memory from long ago. The image of him and Harry locked together in a loving embrace made Severus long for what he knew he would never have again. Even if he wanted to find another lover, no one would ever come close to Harry. Harry was the love of his life, and he was gone.

Severus held the picture close to his chest as he moved absently up the stairs to enter his bedroom for the first time since returning home. He stopped short as he entered.

Harry had decorated this room, insisting that House rivalries would not be part of his household. The king-sized bed was covered with a royal blue comforter, concealing the pale blue sheets beneath. The walls were painted a pale cream color, accentuated by elegant, waist-high oak panels. All of the furniture was made of oak encompassing a dresser, the bed, an armoire and the doors of the closet and water closet. It was very subtle, and screamed of Harry's delicate sense of refinement. Another sob worked its way from Severus' chest as his eyes landed on the large dragon sculpture on the dresser; a trinket Harry had gotten to remember Hagrid by.

Severus turned swiftly, fleeing from the memories the sight of it elicited; memories of sleepless nights spent in heated embraces in the arms of the man he would forever love.

_"What say we break in this room?" Harry asked, shedding his outer robe and throwing it on a chair by the window. "I'd love to see if my screams echo off of the walls in here." _

_Severus felt his body heat rise at the decidedly wicked statement, peeling off his own outer robes as quickly as he could without losing any dignity. "I believe I'd like to know that as well," he murmured, his husky whisper having an immediate effect on Harry._

_He stalked toward his husband, pulling the petite beauty into a passionate embrace. He ran his tongue along Harry's bottom lip, eliciting a moan from his extremely responsive lover, and took advantage of the parted lips by pushing his tongue into that luscious warmth. _

_He let his tongue explore Harry's mouth, enjoying the sounds emanating from deep within the young man's throat. He gently maneuvered them, lowering Harry to the bed without ever breaking the kiss._

_"I believe, Mr. Potter, that you are wearing far too many clothes," Severus whispered in Harry's ear, then taking the tempting earlobe into his mouth, drawing more moans from his husband._

_"Then remove them," Harry replied, already working on Severus' buttons._

_Harry tried to unbutton his husband's shirt, but the farther down he got down on the shirt, the slower he went until he stopped all together. Severus was far more enthusiastic than usual. Harry had to think of Aunt Petunia in lingerie and Uncle Vernon in a thong, or Professor McGonagall with her sagging boobs dusting the floor. Hell, even Aunt Marge getting pleasure from Ripper that no man can give, to keep from begging for Severus to hurry up! _

_After Severus had ripped the rest of Harry's shirt off, the buttons could be heard hitting the walls and furniture, he straddled him and grabbed the back of Harry's head, pulling him forward into a deep, passionate kiss. _

_**SNIP! SNIP! EDITED FOR NC-17 CONTENT!**_

Severus leaned heavily against the wall, sliding down it as sobs erupted from his chest. He gripped the picture frame tightly as he cried, wishing that he could have saved his husband from such a terrible fate. He wished that Harry would have just listened to him and done his gardening during the day. He wished that he had gotten there sooner to save Harry from the werewolf, and then he cried harder, knowing that wishing for things that could never be was an exercise in futility.

"Oh gods, Harry!" he cried miserably. "Why did you leave me? WHY?" He sat against the wall for a long time, crying until his head was throbbing and his eyes felt sore. He sat there for nearly half an hour after the tears had stopped, staring blankly at the wall across from him. Finally, he sighed, standing up and moving back down the stairs. He went into the living room, laid on the couch and fell asleep, still clutching the picture to his chest.

* * *

**Author's Note: Many thanks to…**

**Ktoddhim**

**Sliver of Melody**

**Shiemi Shimabukuro**

**LeeLeePotter: There are two more chapters after this one, but it doesn't get any happier.**

**Nicky12330**

**Severinah**

**Emerald-silver Serpent**

**Medicated Drama Queen**

**Strega: It's not quite the end yet, dear. It doesn't get any happier though, so be warned.**


	3. Funeral Arrangements

**Chapter Three**

**Funeral Arrangements**

**ONE**

"I don't know, Hermione," the tall redhead said uncertainly, running a hand through his fiery hair. "It seems pretty quiet. Maybe he's not here."

The woman to whom he was speaking sighed in an irritated manner, turning impatient brown eyes to him. "Of course it's quiet, Ron," she snapped. "He's the only one here, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Ron replied quietly. "Yeah, you're right, of course." He blinked his red-rimmed eyes several times in an attempt to hold back his tears. Hermione, seeing his distress, wrapped him in a comforting hug.

"Think about how hard it's been for us," she said gently. "It must be ten times worse for Severus. We both know how much he loved Harry."

"I know," Ron replied, holding his wife to him tightly. "I won't cry in front of him, I promise."

"Okay," Hermione said, moving out of the embrace. "Are you ready?" When Ron nodded, Hermione knocked on the door. After several minutes of knocking and still no answer, Hermione tried the knob, finding that the door was unlocked.

The house seemed empty, but Hermione didn't believe that Severus would have left already. "He has to be here somewhere," she said. "Go check the kitchen."

Ron walked away, his eyes roaming around the room sadly.

Hermione looked in the living room, gazing at the many photographs around the room sadly, fighting back her tears at the memories of her best friend. Ron's yelped "Bloody Hell!" from the kitchen brought her out of her musings. Wondering what was going on, she went to the kitchen to investigate.

The kitchen seemed fine, but when she went to the pantry, she found that it was completely destroyed. Ron was standing in the midst of the destruction, looking stricken. "Harry loved this pantry," Ron said. "Why would Severus destroy it?"

Hermione sighed patiently, pulling Ron from the ruins. "Because in Severus' mind, these herbs killed Harry," she told him.

"Oh," Ron replied, looking at the mess in a new light. "I suppose I can see that."

"You try to fix this up while I go find Severus," she said, deciding to look outside before moving to the upstairs.

"Okay," Ron agreed, squaring his shoulders and taking out his wand. Hermione moved out of the room as Ron began his repairs, walking toward the back door to check Harry's garden. What she found when she opened the door broke her heart.

Severus was on his knees on the walkway, a pail of water next to him, scrubbing the pavement and crying at once. Next to him was a small wooden picture frame.

Hermione moved forward, picked up the photo, and had to stop a gasp at the picture she saw. "Oh, Severus," she murmured, turning to look at the distraught Potions Master.

"It wouldn't come up with magic," Severus said, scrubbing at the large bloodstain on the pavement. "Harry wouldn't want me to just leave it. I have to get it up!" He'd apparently been out here for a while because his first knuckles on all of his fingers were bleeding.

Hermione put her hands on his shoulders. "Come on, Severus," she said, pulling gently. "Stop it, you're hurting yourself."

Severus shook her hands off of him, continuing to scrub furiously. "I can't just leave it," he snapped at her. "Harry would be angry if I just left it."

"We'll get it up," Hermione assured him, forcefully pulling him away from his scrubbing.

"No!" Severus exclaimed, fighting her. "I have to get it up!"

Hermione pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as he struggled against her. After a moment, he seemed to crumple against her shoulder, sobbing harshly. "Shh," she said gently. "We'll get Molly to come and clean it. She can get it up."

"I have t-to keep tr-trying," Severus sobbed miserably. "Harry would b-be s-so angry i-if I d-didn't."

"Molly will get it," Hermione assured him, holding in all of her pain at seeing him this way. She pulled Severus to his feet and turned to bring him into the house. Ron was behind them, staring with wide, stricken eyes at the scene. "Your mum will get it, won't she Ron?" Hermione asked pointedly.

Ron nodded mutely. "I… I'll just go call her then," he said softly, going back into the house quickly.

"You're sure she'll be able to get it up?" Severus asked, gaining some control over his emotions. "Because if she can't…"

"She raised seven children, Severus," Hermione replied. "She'll be able to clean it up."

Severus nodded, moving away from Hermione's embrace. He led her into the kitchen, where Molly was just stepping out of the fireplace.

"Hello, Severus," she said, dusting soot off of her robes. In her arms, she carried a bucket and a bottle of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. "I'll just go and clean up that mess." She moved away, never looking at Severus so that he wouldn't see how red her eyes were.

"Thank you, Molly," Severus replied. He moved to the magical refrigerator. "Do either of you want some breakfast?" he asked.

"You – " Ron started, but fell silent at a look from his wife.

"That would be lovely, Severus," Hermione said. She felt that Severus didn't want to be coddled because of his loss. As Severus began to cook a simple breakfast, Hermione observed him. He seemed worn out and distressed. From what she could tell, he still hadn't had a shower after coming home from the hospital. His hair was greasy and stringy, he had a fair amount of stubble on his strong chin, and his shoulders were drooping in a way she had never seen from him before.

Breakfast was a quiet affair because all of them were in mourning for Harry. As Severus cleaned up after the meal he said, "Thank you for repairing the pantry."

"It was no trouble," Ron replied uncomfortably as Molly came into the kitchen. She cleared her throat gently.

"Did you… did it come up?" Severus asked uncertainly.

"It's all gone now, dear," Molly replied. "You just call me if you need anything else, anything at all."

"Yes, I will," Severus said. "Thank you, Molly."

"Think nothing of it, Severus," Molly remarked, waving off his thanks. Hermione could see that she had been crying, but she was doing an admirable job of controlling those tears now. "I must get back to my brood, though. I left Arthur with Abigail, and I'm afraid he simply can't handle her." Abigail was Fred's daughter. Fred was one of Ron's brothers who had been quite the prankster in school, and his daughter had taken after her father.

"I understand, Molly," Severus told the woman. "I'll see you later then, I suppose."

"Yes," Molly agreed. "Do try to have a good day."

"I will." With that, Molly stepped into the floo and disappeared. "What brings you two here today?" Severus asked the minute Molly had gone.

Ron looked at Hermione with panic in his eyes.

"We've come to tell you," Hermione said gently, "that we have to make funeral arrangements. As Harry's husband, you have to make the decisions regarding the ceremony."

Severus swallowed and nodded his head slowly. "Yes, I had expected that to come up soon," he said. He looked down at his rumpled robes and ran a hand through his greasy locks. "I guess I should shower." He left the kitchen with his head hanging.

After quite some time, and still no sign of Severus, Hermione decided to go check up on him. She found him standing in the hall, staring at the door to his bedroom.

"I… I can't seem to go in there," he muttered, seeming angry with himself for his weakness.

"I'll just get you some robes then," Hermione assured him, opening the door and going into the bedroom. She found Severus' clothes and got him a full set of inner and outer robes, noting with amusement that everything he owned was black. She emerged from the bedroom and handed the clothes to Severus.

"I… thank you," Severus said, moving to the water closet for his shower. She went back downstairs to wait, finding Ron in the living room, crying over a photograph. "Ron?" she asked softly.

"Harry didn't deserve to die like that," Ron cried, not looking up from the picture. "Why did that happen to him? Why couldn't he just have a long, happy life? What did he do to deserve this?"

Hermione sat next to Ron, removed the photo from his hands and pulled him into a hug. "I don't know, Ron," she said gently, rubbing his back with her hand. "We'll never know why." These men were making it difficult for her to be strong, but she knew she had to be. She couldn't understand why men were so strong with everything else, but when it came to emotions, they needed a woman to hold them together.

Ron pulled away from her, nodding his understanding and wiping the tears from his face. "I don't know how Severus can handle this," he murmured. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"Don't think about those things, Ron," Hermione admonished. "We should look back on the happy times with Harry and remember his life with a smile. He would have been furious with us if he could see the way we're all carrying on."

"I know," Ron replied. "It's just hard."

Hermione touched his face gently. "I know it is, Ron. It's hard for me too."

Severus came into the room then, looking cleaner and more composed than he had done. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, clasping his hands in front of his body. Hermione and Ron nodded and the three of them Apparated to the funeral home.

**TWO**

Severus looked around the silent room with trepidation. He did not look forward to choosing Harry's final resting place, though he knew he had to. The funeral director, Mr. Hopkins, was a sympathetic man, but he was obviously trying to sell Severus the most expensive casket they had. They'd already looked at several models, but Severus still hadn't seen anything he thought Harry would have approved of.

"This one is one of our most popular designs," Mr. Hopkins said as he showed them a garish gray casket with gold trim all over it. "Many of our upper class –"

"I've told you before that I don't want anything so uppity," Severus snapped at him, feeling irritated at the man's insistence that Harry Potter should have some ostentatious monstrosity. He turned to look at all of the caskets lining the walls and his eyes landed on the perfect choice.

It was a plain black casket with silver fastenings and handles. The inside was lined with a light gray fabric and the black lacquer on the outside glowed in the dim light of the hallway. "This one," Severus said, touching the casket softly. "He would have liked this one."

Mr. Hopkins stared incredulously while Ron and Hermione smiled behind him. They obviously agreed with Severus' choice.

"Surely something more –" Mr. Hopkins started to say, only to be cut off by Severus' cold, angry voice.

"Harry was not a brash man," Severus growled. "He wouldn't have wanted some flashy box, designed to show how wonderful he was. He was wonderful in his own way, and one of the things that made him so was his taste for simplicity. I want this one. Schedule the fu… the service for the day after tomorrow. You may send your bill to my home." With that, he left the funeral home, Ron and Hermione smirking at Mr. Hopkins before following him out.

**THREE **

Severus spent the next day with Ron and Hermione, making up notices to send to Harry's many friends to notify them of the funeral service. Severus was proud of himself for not crying once during the long day. Hermione made them all of their meals and did her best to keep the conversation on a happy note. Severus was grateful for their quiet support, but he would never tell them so. He suspected that they knew anyway.

**FOUR**

The day of the funeral dawned bright and happy, in complete odds with Hermione's strong sense of loss and sadness. She and Ron arrived at the funeral home early, both dressed in simple black robes, to make the last minute arrangements at Severus' request.

The mourners began arriving around eleven o'clock, and the service started at noon. Severus had arranged for a private service, knowing that Harry wouldn't have wanted complete strangers at his funeral. While only friends were allowed inside the parlor, the streets outside were lined with thousands of people who came to say their final goodbyes to The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Severus sat in the front, his face a mask of coldness, though Hermione knew that he was dying inside. Her heart clenched as she looked at him, wondering how long he'd be able to hold up his façade before he broke down completely.

The service went smoothly as the people who were closest to Harry made speeches about his life and accomplishments. Hermione's own speech was short and to the point, stating only how much he was loved and that he would be remembered always. Severus refused to make any statement, saying that whatever he thought about Harry was his own business and not to be put on display to make others feel better.

As people passed the coffin to say goodbye, many of them broke down sobbing, leaving Hermione with a lot of people to console when she herself needed consoling. After everyone had paid their final respects, Harry's coffin was loaded into a hearse and driven to the cemetery that would be his final resting place. He was to be buried next to his parents in Godric's Hollow.

It was as Harry's casket was being lowered into the ground that Severus lost his tight control over his emotions. He fell to his knees and sobbed brokenly, screaming "Why" over and over until Hermione thought she would go crazy. Molly knelt next to Severus, her arm draped over his shoulders, crying herself and trying to console him at the same time. Hermione remained standing, tears silently coursing down her cheeks as she watched her best friend disappear into the earth.

Once she and Ron returned home, Ron broke down in desperate sobs, holding Hermione to him tightly as he cried. It wasn't until after Ron had gone to bed that Hermione allowed herself to break down. She cried late into the night, finally falling asleep from sheer grief and exhaustion.

* * *

**Author's Note: Many thanks to…**

**Medicated Drama Queen: Yes, I like to show the difference in their ages on occasion. Shows why Harry keeps Sev on his toes. I'm glad to repost this. It is also one of my favorites. It's the first tragedy I've ever written and sometimes even I want to cry when I go over it to correct mistakes. Poor Severus.**

**Ktoddhim**

**LuxAeternaSanti: There's only one chapter left after this one. We'll see what Severus will do then.**

**Strega: I figured that the loss of someone you care for as deeply as Severus cares for Harry would wreak havoc on your emotions. I wanted to show that sometimes people just loose themselves in grief.**

**Shiemi Shimabukuro**

**Sliver of Melody**


	4. My Immortal

**Chapter Four**

**My Immortal**

**ONE **

Severus woke up the day after the funeral with a sense of peace he hadn't felt since Harry was attacked. He had a plan in his mind, and today he would complete it. He went down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast first. He made porridge and put a large amount of treacle in it, the same way Harry always liked it. It was far too sweet for Severus' tastes, but it reminded him of his beloved husband, and so he ate it all without hesitation.

"_How can you stand to eat all that sugar?" Severus asked as he sat at the table across from his dear husband._

_Harry gave him a cheeky grin and asked, "How can you stand your porridge so bland?"_

_Severus raised an amused eyebrow saying, "Point taken."_

_Harry chuckled lightly, eating another spoonful of his extra sweet porridge. After he'd swallowed, he said, "I suppose it's because I was mostly denied sugar and candy when I was growing up."_

_The fact that Harry hadn't said _'during my childhood' _did not escape Severus' notice, but he said nothing about it. "That is a logical conclusion," he said. "Though I did not have much sugar during my upbringing either, and yet I do not crave sugar."_

_Harry smiled at him. "Then perhaps it's just because I have an insatiable sweet tooth."_

"_I believe that is the more believable thought," Severus replied._

After finishing his meal, he cleaned the kitchen until it sparkled. Next, he set out around the house, cleaning everything the Muggle way, just as Harry used to do, until the whole residence was spotless. It was late afternoon by the time he finished his cleaning, so he went out to the garden and began weeding. Small weeds were sprouting everywhere from the lack of Harry's diligent care.

_Severus smiled gently as he watched Harry rip the weeds from the ground, sweat beading on his forehead. "I will never, for the life of me, understand why you insist on doing that manually. There are spells designed to make this kind of work unnecessary."_

"_It feels more fulfilling to do it myself," Harry replied, ripping up another weed. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, smearing dirt on his forehead. "Bloody Hell, it's hot out here tonight. Isn't it supposed to get _cool_ after the sun goes down?"_

_Severus chuckled lightly, leaning against the doorframe to watch his husband toil. "It has been a very hot summer," he commented. "Of course, if you would use the spells instead of doing all this Muggle work, you wouldn't be having a problem with the heat."_

"_Yes, and I would have a terrible pot belly, and you wouldn't find me attractive anymore. What good is that?" _

_Severus shook his head at Harry's reasoning. "There are other ways to keep one's physique."_

_Harry sat on his knees, turning to look at Severus. "Would you rather I did it with magic?" he asked seriously, looking slightly worried._

"_No," Severus replied, smiling gently. "This way gives me a lovely excuse to bathe you later on."_

_Harry smiled brilliantly at him. "That it does," he agreed, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He bent back to his work, and Severus left him to it, going inside to fill some potions orders he needed to finish._

After he had weeded the entire garden, he began pruning the vegetable plants, making sure that there were no dead leaves left to hinder their growth. His next task was to harvest the ripe herbs and vegetables, clean them, jar them, preserve them and place them in the pantry. He smiled at the scents emanating from the pantry; reminded of the day Harry proposed keeping a garden.

"_You know, Severus," Harry said, looking over the large expanse of backyard behind their home. "This land is perfect for an herb garden."_

_Severus raised an eyebrow in question._

"_Think about it," Harry said. "You could have fresh ingredients for your potions, and I could have fresh ingredients for cooking with. Everything would turn out better."_

"_That is true," Severus agreed, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist. _

"_We have a large pantry," Harry went on, laying his head on Severus' shoulder. "We may as well put it to good use."_

"_I think that is a wonderful idea," Severus said, placing a kiss on top of Harry's head. They'd had a conversation similar to this once before, when Harry had first seen the pantry, but now Severus knew his husband was serious about the garden._

The memory brought a soft smile to Severus' face. He knew that he would never be able to forget Harry. His husband was dead, but in many ways, he was still with him. Severus sighed sadly, moving out of the pantry and up the stairs to take a bath. He filled the tub with very warm, though not hot, water, pouring Harry's soap into it. He disrobed, sank into the tub, and closed his eyes.

_Severus breathed in deeply, loving the scent of Harry. "You always smell wonderful," he informed his young lover._

_Harry smiled shyly up at him. "Thank you," he said. "Hermione suggested the soap, and I kind of liked it, so I kept using it."_

"_I like it as well," Severus commented. He bent his head, capturing Harry's lips with his own._

Severus washed his hair with Harry's shampoo, relishing in the scent of it. Once he was clean, he got out of the tub and dried off. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair out, remembering the day Harry had snipped at him for brushing it when it was wet, and put on his black silk pajama pants.

"_You look wonderful in those pants, Severus," _Harry had once said.

"Thank you, Harry," Severus murmured, closing his eyes to stem the tears he felt threatening to fall. He moved into the bedroom and got into the bed, on Harry's side. He pulled Harry's pillow to his body, and held it tightly, smelling his lover on it.

"Forgive me, Harry," he said to the empty room. "I was never strong enough for these kinds of situations. I know you would be furious with me for this, but I cannot live here anymore. I cannot think of my life without you in it. You completed me, and now you are no more. Forgive my weakness, Harry. I love you." He reached to the nightstand, lifted a small vial filled with a clear liquid, opened it and downed its contents in one swallow. "Forgive me, my love," he whispered, just as he fell asleep, never to wake again.

_**FIN**_

* * *

**Author's Note: Many thanks to…**

**Lee: I had it archived at adultfanfiction . net, but not anymore. I'm glad you like it.**

**Medicated Drama Queen**

**Weirkat**

**Shiemi Shimabukuro**

**Sliver of Melody**

**Ktoddhim**

**SeparatriX**

**Animegurl088**

**Nicky12330**

**Strega: I hope this makes up some for his suffering in previous chapters.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who read this far, including those who didn't review. Sorry for the incredible sadness of this tale, but it was something I felt I had to do.**


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